


Respite

by Beleriandings



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: Even by their usual standards, Gwen thought it was absolutely fair to say it had been a rough week.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper & Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	Respite

Even by their usual standards, Gwen thought it was absolutely fair to say it had been a rough week. Well. It had been a fairly typical week with the team two down, but that was an issue to raise with Jack the next day.

Of course, it would also help for him to be alive if she wanted him to listen to her concerns regarding staffing, she thought.

“How long’s it been?” Gwen asked, wincing as she put weight on her ankle again, leaning over Jack’s still form on the sofa. Ianto had changed Jack’s clothes already, she noticed; he’d rid Jack of his blood-soaked things as soon as they got back, but – perhaps predictably – hadn’t changed his own clothes yet, his shirt still stained with Jack’s blood and his own from the split lip and bloody nose.

She watched Ianto straighten up, checking his watch. “Just under half an hour” he said, leaning down again to wipe a last smear of red off Jack’s cheek with his thumb. He winced. “Last time he completely bled out it was nearly two hours though, so...”

“...So, we’ve got a long time to wait” said Gwen. Grimacing through the pain in her ankle, she came over and tugged Ianto away from the sofa, tutting over him. “Come on. Med bay, now. Your poor nose is going to be swollen as anything tomorrow either way, but let me clean the blood off your face at least.”

“Only if you put some ice on that ankle” he said. “And let me strap it up. And phone Rhys to come pick you up, since I don’t think either of us are driving tonight. ...And then after that, we can finish that pizza from lunch that was interrupted by that last Rift alert. Deal?”

She gave an exhausted smile. “You drive a hard bargain there, Mister Jones.”

He laughed, clearly as weary as she was, but let her tug him by the sleeve in the direction of the med bay. “Okay then” he said. “I’ll get the bandages, you get the disinfectant.”

* * *

They hadn’t talked too much as they’d seen to each others’ injuries. Now, they were sitting on cushions with their backs against the sofa on which Jack was still lying dead; by unspoken agreement, neither of them had wanted to stray too far from him. Gwen’s bandaged ankle was elevated on the low coffee table, as per the instructions Ianto had found on google. The adrenaline of the day had started to wear off a while ago, and both of them were well into the come down as they opened the pizza box balanced on Ianto’s knees.

“Ah, hello twelve-hour-old room-temperature pepperoni pizza” said Ianto solemnly, taking a bite. “We meet again.”

Gwen laughed through her own bite of pizza, choking on it a little. “Not the classiest of meals, but it’ll do.”

Ianto looked at her in mock shock. “Not classy? Sitting on the floor at half two in the morning eating cold takeaway pizza with a bruised up face, having not slept in...” he broke off, brow furrowing as he tried to remember. “Um. Since Monday? Two nights...”

“Three” Gwen reminded him gently. “It’s Thursday now.”

“So it is” he said wearily, dropping his pizza crust back into the box, too exhausted to eat it.

She patted his arm. “Your accent gets stronger when you’re tired, did you know? I can tell how long we’ve both been up by how much you sound you’ve come straight from the valleys.”

Ianto snorted. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

“Let me guess… Jack?”

“Jack, and Lisa” said Ianto, with the slightest hint of a smile.

Immediately, Gwen regretted bringing it up; despite how much closer they’d become since those early days, she still didn’t quite know where they stood about Lisa and everything that had happened back then, and she knew if there was any conversation to be had then they were both too tired and overwhelmed to have it now.

But luckily, Ianto was speaking again, moving the conversation on. “But so does yours, so...”

“What?”

“Your accent. You do the same thing.”

“No...really?”

“Really.”

They both munched in silence for a little while more. Gwen hadn’t realised quite how hungry she was, but then, she hadn’t even realised how late it was.

“Lucky escape, today” said Gwen after they’d finished the food and gone silently contemplative. She felt Ianto’s muscles tense beside her, just a little. She knew why, of course; it was the same as it always was, when one of them came close to the truth that hung between them, never quite spoken out loud but always there, binding them closer than ever in the wake of Tosh and Owen’s deaths. The certain knowledge that one of them would be next; that sooner or later – and probably sooner – either one or the other of them would be killed doing this job. Their silent pact to take care of those left behind. “It was a close thing” she said, leaning against him slightly.

“Very close.” Ianto gave her a long look, and she knew he understood the meaning under her words, was acknowledging that their understanding still held. He nodded slowly, reaching out a moment later to lay a hand on her arm.

She smiled, clasping his hand and giving it a little squeeze. “We’ll be okay” she said.

“Yeah.” He gave her a fleeting, weary smile and nodded, squeezing her fingers back. She took that as a sign that he wouldn’t mind if she leaned her head against his shoulder; sometimes, especially after Tosh and Owen had died, Ianto had bristled away from touch as a means of comfort. Whether he welcomed it or not depended entirely on circumstance, and she was still learning his boundaries, just as he had learned hers from a careful distance.

But today, it seemed, Ianto welcomed her leaning her head against his shoulder, melting sleepily into the touch. Despite their cushions the metal floor was cold and mildly uncomfortable, but she was too tired to move, and she guessed he was too. She smiled, as his head coming down to rest against hers confirmed this.

“Mmm… can’t go to sleep” she heard Ianto protest weakly, “Rhys is coming to pick you up. Need to let him in…”

“S’fine” Gwen muttered, pressed against his side. “’M awake. Just… let’s take a minute...”

“Just a minute, then” Ianto mumbled, leaning gratefully against her.

Pressed sideways against the warmth of him - and quite despite herself - Gwen let herself fall, down and down into the comforting darkness of deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Jack gasped back to life, momentarily disorientated. He was in the Hub, he realised a moment later; as he sat up, he felt the familiar headrush that usually persisted for a while after he’d died by bleeding out, when he wasn’t quite back to normal human blood pressure yet.

He flexed his fingers and curled his toes, trying to chase away the too-familiar numbness and chill in his extremities. The feeling served to remind him of everything that had happened, and for a moment he cast around for Gwen and Ianto. Coming back to life alone in this place always made him feel a respectable dose of panic as his scrambled thoughts reassembled themselves, though Jack would be the first to admit it was irrational.

Not that his quick glance around was very reassuring this time. For a moment, he saw no one at all, the Hub empty and echoing around him. Usually Ianto would be sitting with him when he came back, often Gwen too, unless there was some urgent crisis in progress that needed their attention. The fact that they were nowhere to be seen might mean -

No, it was alright after all, Jack realised as his eyes caught on the ground beside the foot of the sofa. The tension left his shoulders, and he got up – pushing aside the wave of dizziness, since apparently he _still_ hadn’t got all his blood back – and padded silently across the floor. He picked up the abandoned pizza box and put it on the table, before coming forward to kneel in front of the sofa with an indulgent smile.

Gwen and Ianto were both sitting on the floor with their backs against the sofa, fast asleep. Gwen’s face was slumped to Ianto’s shoulder and his cheek was pressed to the crown of her head, arms loosely linked between them. Ianto was snoring just a little, and Gwen was drooling slightly on the shoulder of Ianto’s jacket.

Jack’s smile grew wider, tears starting at the corners of his eyes as he watched them sleep, these two people that he cared about so deeply, the two the world had conspired to let him keep close. For the moment, at least.

But, Jack thought as he swept a few wayward strands of hair off Gwen’s face, he had to be careful. Though neither of them would ever complain, the week they’d had had taken its toll on them. He frowned as he gently undid Ianto’s collar button and loosened his tie. Since Tosh and Owen, the three of them had been run ragged trying to shoulder the extra work. Jack knew that though he himself didn’t need as much rest as most people, Gwen and Ianto absolutely did. He felt the familiar press of guilt that came whenever they had a close call, or a particularly horrible week. He was pushing them too hard, he knew. It was clearer to him than ever now, as his fingertips swept gently over the bruises beginning to purple on Ianto’s face, his swollen nose and lip. He also hadn’t failed to notice the bandage on Gwen’s ankle; that would mean she should probably be on desk work for a few days at least, but he might have no choice but to send her out anyway.

Of course, he thought, there was an obvious solution to this. He’d known for a while now that sooner or later he’d have to hire more staff, to fill Tosh and Owen’s jobs again. But it was hard; hard him to move on so soon. It would be hard for Gwen and Ianto too, he knew. Not that they’d show it, but it would be.

Still, he knew it had to be done. He’d be sure to lose one of them otherwise, and he wasn’t ready for that. Not again, not now.

Not them.

Jack stood up, hands on his hips as he cast around for his coat, before remembering the amount of blood that had been on him when he’d died in that alleyway. Ianto would need to take it to be drycleaned in the morning. No matter; a quick trip to his bunker later and Jack had brought out a spare blanket which he draped over Gwen and Ianto, tucking the corners around them carefully with a quick brushing kiss to each of their foreheads.

Of course he’d have to find someone new, he thought. He owed Ianto and Gwen better than this, better than constant danger and exhaustion for the sake of his own complicated web of grief and misgivings and guilt. He owed them the chance to live their lives for themselves too, not only for Torchwood, however long or short those lives might be.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of a phone vibrating against a hard surface, from somewhere to the side. Jack started, the sound too loud in the silence, nearly dropping it as he fumbled to grasp it without waking Ianto or Gwen. It fell from his grasp and skittered across the floor, and Jack’s hands closed over it just as it stopped ringing. He frowned at the small screen, seeing that it was Gwen’s phone and that she had five missed calls from Rhys.

He knew Rhys would be waiting outside to come pick Gwen up and take her home; collecting himself, Jack smoothed down the blanket one last time and went to let him in.

Once Rhys stepped off the invisible lift, Jack quieted his greeting with a finger to his lips, nodding over at the other two asleep by the sofa. When Rhys followed his gaze, his face softened into a fond smile.

Jack grinned. “Cute, right?”

Rhys made a tutting sound, picking up Gwen’s bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. “You work them too hard.”

Jack faltered. “...I know” he said, very quietly. He watched Rhys step forwards and gently wake Gwen with a touch to the shoulder; she flinched reflexively as she came awake, which woke Ianto too, blinking blearily and rubbing his stiff neck as he tried to gather himself and be helpful.

Jack was already at his side, arm around Ianto’s waist as Gwen kissed Rhys on the cheek, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Oh, love. Sorry if you were standing out there in the cold. Must’ve fallen asleep waiting.”

He shook his head fondly. “’S okay. Let’s just get you home. ...Bloody hell, what happened to your foot?”

“Oh, just a sprain. Ianto strapped it up for me. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright, well.” He nodded at Ianto and Jack. “Night you two.”

“Goodnight” said Ianto. “See you tomorrow, Gwen.”

“Tomorrow” she said, reaching out and touching Ianto’s forearm. “Don’t let him keep you up” she said.

“I’d never!” Jack feigned affront, and Ianto rolled his eyes fondly.

Gwen smiled, nodding her goodbye to Jack before leaving with Rhys’s arm around her, leaning into his embrace.

By the time they’d gone, Ianto was practically sagging in Jack’s arms too, letting him take most of his weight. Jack smiled, sitting down on the sofa and pulling him into his arms. It had been a hard day – a hard few months, really – but he always loved Ianto like this; too sleepy to let the horrors of the day or his twenty-first century inhibitions get in the way of his need to just be held close. Ianto’s face was pressed to Jack’s neck. “You’re back” he mumbled sleepily.

“Mmm-hmm” said Jack, fingers stroking through Ianto’s hair. “...You know, you could’ve taken the sofa, you and Gwen. It’s more comfortable than the floor.”

“You were on it.”

“I was dead, Ianto” said Jack gently. “It wasn’t like it would’ve mattered to me.”

Ianto looked up at him, mouth turning down at the corners in a sleepy frown. “It matters” he insisted. “You matter.”

Jack stroked his hair. “So do you.” He placed a kiss right at Ianto’s hairline; they didn’t talk like this during the day, only at night when their exhaustion would give them plausible deniability for the things that passed between them. Soft and vulnerable things that felt too dangerous in the light of day.

Ianto raised his head at that, looked at him with half-lidded eyes and kissed him, long and slow and impossibly sweet. Jack didn’t want the kiss to ever end, but at last he pulled away; Ianto’s eyes were more than half closed now, and he seemed to be as much asleep as he was awake. Jack laughed softly. “C’mon” he said, helping Ianto up despite his whimpered protests, deftly blocking his subsequent attempt to tidy away the pizza box on the table. “Bed.”

Ianto tutted, but let Jack pull him up. “Guess it’s not every night the Rift’ll give us a rest.”

“No” said Jack, stroking Ianto’s hair as he led him towards the bunker hatch in his office. “No, it’s not.”


End file.
